Can’t Touch This

May 8, 2006 at 1:02 pm (Funny Shit)

I can’t touch this one today for a funny post, so go see Chatty B. Tawkin and check out this video. I don’t have sound and it was STILL a scream!


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May 7, 2006 at 5:14 pm (Uncategorized)

I was presented with a dilemma last night, and I'm not sure what to do.

One of the issues leading me to handing my engagement ring back was that my basic needs keep being the ones put on the back burner, while less-than-basic needs of Honey's were higher priority. One particularly strangling one for me was that repairs to put my car back on the road weren't a priority (but fixing Honey's air conditioning in his car was).

Last night I was made an offer I'm having trouble with:  He will pay ALL expenses relating to getting my car back on the road, including insurance and tags.


In return, I have to agree to live here until September. After Labor Day weekend, I could either load the car and leave, or stay and resume our relationship.

I responded that I wasn't for sale.

Did I take this wrong, or was it the manipulative bullshit I felt it was? 

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The Skinny

May 6, 2006 at 10:14 am (Hellos and Goodbyes)

I moved this blog because I saw something coming that I was fighting tooth and nail to avoid, but I can’t anymore.

I gave Honey back his engagement ring and ended the relationship, last night.

Both old blogs are deleted because he knows the locations. I’m in the position of having to move back to Wisconsin, with no money and no car. Needless to say, his mom is making an impossible situation pure hell, so I can’t expect help from her (and I can’t say that I expect any).

I’ll post more when I have it in me to do so.

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Making MUD

May 5, 2006 at 4:33 pm (Uncategorized)

This weekend, the owners of the MUD I Admin for are away, leaving me with shitloads of insane people who haven't taken their Ritalin.  I probably won't get much blogging done, but you can come create a character and help keep me sane if you're bored. I play under the name Serra, same as here.

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May 4, 2006 at 9:18 am (Fuck off and Die Thursday)

Once again it's Fuck off and Die Thursday, and yesterday's run around Southeastern Michigan highlighted why I've picked this week's winner as I have. Nowhere else that I have ever driven (and that's a lot of places considering my stint as a courier) is so full of drivers with such an attitude of entitlement, self-importance and utter disregard for the fact that indeed they do NOT own the Dog-damned road.

So, to the drivers in SE MI–FUCK OFF AND DIE!

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YOU–Yes, YOU there–the lady in the RAV 4 with the cellphone glued to your ear! Where in Hell did you get the idea that the correct way through the intersection is turning left from the FAR right lane? Where's a fucking cop when you need one?

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Why not?

May 2, 2006 at 9:01 am (Pop Culture on Parade)

American Idol is in its four or fifth season now (who can remember which, they're all starting to run together now) and something finally dawned on me last night as I watched a commercial for this week's shows.

Each season they bring in several guest artists. This season has featured Queen, Rod Stewart, Andrea Bocelli (and am I the ONLY dumbshit who didn't know he was blind until I watched him awhile?) and Stevie Wonder. Let's see, they're paying assloads of money out for royalties to songwriters PLUS forking over huge bucks for these megastars to appear and do clinics, but they have a prime example of the perfect someone to tell these total unknowns how to be a star no matter how small your talent reserve is.

It's Paula Abdul, folks.

Paula managed to become a star in spite of the fact that she didn't sing perfectly. She was cute and could dance, and she parlayed that into three albums and SIX #1 singles. Yet she just sits there with Randy and Simon (I still want the job of being the one that pisses on his pancakes and ensures the trademark snark every day), getting more loaded as the season progresses, spouting such inanities as "You gave that one your all," and "Oh, Simon, shut up." She doesn't actually WORK, which I think is a big part of why that glass in front of her is highly unlikely to contain bubbly water, unless of course that "bubbly water" was made by monks in the Champagne region of France.

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SPT: What part…

May 1, 2006 at 4:38 pm (Sock Puppet Theater, The Enlightening Ones)

…of "Mind your own fucking business," does H'sMa NOT understand? I'll tell you about the afternoon before she blessedly tottered out of the house, and perhaps you can tell me.

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Recipe: Beeramisu

April 30, 2006 at 9:58 pm (Recipes)

From 101 Cookbooks

This sounds really really strange, but I could see it with a good dark beer. Or Guiness if I can't find a good dark beer.


Heidi notes: I made a few minor tweaks to Paul's version. I did individual servings instead of a big family-style version and I used Italian-style ladyfingers called savoiardi, they are harder and don't go to mush when you dunk them in the coffee bath. Look for them at Italian markets. A.G. Ferrari here in San Francisco carries them.

1 pound mascarpone cheese

1 cup confectioner's sugar

2 eggs beaten (hs note: leave these out if you are worried about eating raw eggs, it's still tasty)

1 tablespoon vanilla

3/4 cup heavy cream, whipped

48 ladyfinger cookies (hs note: I used less, one 7 ounce package)

6 ounces (3/4 cup) Porter beer

1/2 cup brewed coffee, the stronger the better

1/2 cup cocoa

In a large bowl mix together the mascarpone, sugar, beaten eggs and vanilla. Fold in the whipped cream. Set this mixture aside. In a shallow dish stir together the Porter beer and the brewed coffee, Dip the ladyfingers cookies into the coffee mixture (hs note: if you are using regular non-Italian ladyfingers make it a quick dunk). Don't let the ladyfingers get soggy. Arrange them in a single layer in a glass casserole dish (hs note: 8×8 is prob. fine). Spread 1/2-inch layer of mascarpone mixture on top of the ladyfingers. Sprinkle with 1/4 cup cocoa. Repeat this for the second layer. Cover and chill in the refrigerator for at least two hours before serving.

Serves 12

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Stupidity Breeds Stupidity

April 29, 2006 at 11:26 am (Funny Shit, Pop Culture on Parade, Raised by Wolves, Rant Goodness)

The TomKitten is loosed upon the world. Brangelina have bred and are awaiting the results. Fetus Spears has already been the cause of one call to CPS. And now we have news that Fetus Spears V.2 is in production. I could go on with the list of luminaries that are about to spit out babies or have done so recently, but it'll just belabor the point.

The point is, I read daily on blogs and hear all over the media about "stupid people shouldn't breed," or "people should have a license to have babies," or some other supposed remedy for the multitude of annoying fucks who give birth to more stupid, annoying fucks. Last night on Mind of Mencia I heard what should have been occurring to all those who lament that the world is getting dumber. To quote:

Mencia: If you have one D student, who are they gonna breed with? ANOTHER D student! And when one D student breeds with another D student, what do you get?

Audience: DeeDeeDee!

Finally, someone ELSE who totally gets that combating stupidity requires guidance! His suggestion was to require C students to only make babies with A students to increase the chances of producing a child bright enough to pound sand. I think my idea is much better: Having smart people step up and out-produce the stupid people child-wise.

I'm totally serious! Make a smarter world, smart people, one squalling shit factory at a time!

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RbW Poster Child of the Week

April 28, 2006 at 12:29 pm (Raised by Wolves)

This week’s Raised by Wolves Poster child is the tour company who booked four busloads of kids to go on a trip to reward them for being top students for a day when Six Flags Marine World in Vallejo, California was closed.

From the article:

“It was pretty much a fiasco,” said Washoe County School District spokesman Steve Mulvenon. “They ended up wasting a day that those kids could have better spent in class or doing what they were going to do at the park.”

Gee, there’s an understatement. I’ll be really surprised if there isn’t more flak on this from both students and parents involved. I’m also wondering why the company’s name isn’t mentioned.

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April 27, 2006 at 1:18 pm (Fuck off and Die Thursday, The Enlightening Ones)

I know the saying goes, "Don't hate the player–hate the game" but sometimes the players need slapping. This first "Fuck off and Die Thursday" post is for a player I've ranted about plenty, H'sMa. This past week has been annoying and smelly and haven't had a decent shower in a month, topped off with no shower at all since Sunday. Ew, ew and ew.

The last few showers I've had have been all too brief–within a minute of starting the hot water, it began to run cooler, until within 5 minutes my shivering fat ass was cussing the cold water required to rinse my long-assed hair. "You don't need to be in there forever," was her first judgement on the matter. Forever? Who the fuck said anything about forever–there isn't even time to wash and condition my HAIR, let alone tend to items on the bonus plan, like snootch-washing and pit-shaving…rolling eyes. This oh-so-productive horseshit went on for a month, lasting until the old bat finally took a shower herself.

Yep, a full month later. I don't want to think about it.

She emerged from her shower late last week musing, "Hm, I guess there might be something wrong–I didn't get a full shower either." Riiiiiiight. I had nothing better to bitch about than a hot water source because why? Are we forgetting the fact that I desperately need to get a car back on the road, but you won't let me work my only source of fucking income? Well, one of us hasn't forgotten and will be paying your sorry ass back very soon.

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Archives Moved

April 26, 2006 at 11:34 am (Hellos and Goodbyes)

All righty, I sucked up my nerve and moved all the archives and posts over. Don’t know if there are any issues yet, but will get them corrected as I am able.

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Serra’s FAQ

April 24, 2006 at 10:52 am (Hellos and Goodbyes)

It’s occurred to me that there’s a lot of readers that are relatively new here, so I think it might be time for a quick FAQ.

Who the hell is Serra anyhow?

Well, Serra’s a soapmaker living in Southeastern Michigan who currently shares space with several people, two great dogs and a snobby kittycat. The animals are great; the people are really, uh, what’s the word Beo used to use when discussing a total pain in the ass at work? Oh–enlightening! Yes, they’re…enlightening.

What is a Serra anyhow? Why’s this silly bitch using the nickname?

Serra’s short for the name of a crack-coated–I mean, gorgeous collectible game card called Serra Angel. Since the angel’s not really appropriate for me, I shorten it to Serra. Here’s the card:

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Pretty, right? Well, I’m not blonde and I have a rapier, not a broadsword, but I’ve got a better rack than the card too, so I guess it evens out.

Who are the Enlightening Ones? Here’s a quick cast of characters:

Honey: Serra’s long-suffering fiance, an out-of-work automotive engineer (Hear that, Ford? Your outsourcing your design shit HURTS here at HOME–knock it the fuck off already! You have to keep getting everything redone anyhow, so why even do it?) who’s currently woefully underemployed. There’s always hope tho and any serious inquiries into hiring this skilled engineer can email moi and I’ll be happy to send it along.

H’sMa: Honey’s mom and my future Mother-In-Law. Before having to live with her the relationship was mild and mellow and liveable. After nearly a year under the same roof I’ve learned to watch what I eat, say what I have to say loudly and repeatedly, and to fully expect to be gossiped about in my own living space and misquoted out the wazoo. Have I mentioned that I highly dislike yelling, repeating myself, gossipmongers and idiots who don’t get the facts straight when they’re just unable to behave like normal folk and just MUST talk behind someone’s back?

Garand: Resident future brother-in-law and King of Porno, SE Michigan region. This is the guy the movie “The 40 Year Old Virgin” was based on, and he has no chance of changing it even if he should walk down 8 Mile with $500 in one hand and a bag of crack in the other. His habits are slovenly, his money all goes to feed his collections of books, DVDs and porn, and he’s not very nice to his mom. I’ve considered fixing this guy up with friends, but there’s no one I dislike that much.

Your Psychic Fiend: She’s the uber-bitch that lives in my head. She’s a seer whose gift has turned her into a seriously intolerant, non-PC, stubborn, nasty individual. I don’t let her out to play much; when I do, she usually winds up squelched in some elegantly nasty manner as punishment for insulting my friends and family.

Who are Serra’s saving graces?

Beow0l|=: AKA BeoJavBoBeoJavBoBeoJav, is one Serra’s brothers, a nice unique individual living somewhere in the Twin Cities area. It’s not possible to thoroughly describe this great guy so I won’t try–just read me and you’ll learn. His blog link will also someday appear in the sidebar, soon as I figure out how to work WordPress well enough to do so.

Ghost: AKA Ghostie, Phantom, the GhostMeister, is the younger of Serra’s two brothers. Describing him also takes forever since I love him so much. He recently relocated close enough for me to spend time with him and it’s been wonderful for her disposition and mental health.

BooBoo: Ghostie’s girlfriend, a Michigan native. I don’t know how they met or why someone so nice is willing to put up with the younger brother I only let live because it wasn’t legal to take him into the woods and leave him there, but I’m glad she does.

Various other friends’ names will be explained as they occur.

Why does Serra blog?

Because it saves the lives of those around her. I’m 600 miles away from my nearest family, have no car, my hobbies taken because I have so little room to work (after being promised that I’d be able to), I’m not currently on medication (perhaps I should be but it’s so hard to tell who the nuts are in this house that I think it’s crap that I’d have to take pills because THEY’RE the whackos) and blogging is cheaper than psychotherapy.

Why all the profanity?

Life is profane at times, whether or not four-letter words are used. While I do have an excellent vocabulary, there are times where one just MUST say, “Fuck you, the horse you rode in on, the brother who looks like you and your little fucking kick-me dog too!”

I think that’s enough for now–do feel free to check the archives out and comment anytime. I as always reserve the right to tell you you’re full of shit, and if you’re full of shit in a very annoying manner I’ll delete and ban your comment. This doesn’t mean I’ll ban those who disagree. It does mean I’ll ban those who are tedious, annoying, inaccurate or otherwise abusing the privilege of commenting here.

Thanks for stopping by!

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Brace Yourself

April 24, 2006 at 12:52 am (Hellos and Goodbyes)

Hiya everyone! I’m Serra, and this is the future location of the blog known as Whiplash Smile, late of Blogger fame.

To those who don’t know me, I post a warning. This is the playground of a very very naughty inner child, one who most do not find fuzzy, warm and happy. Whiplash Smile in any incarnation is usually inappropriate, politically incorrect, NSFW, FTW, ESAD, and any other acronym denoting things needing warnings. This incarnation will be no different.

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Notes from all over my head

April 23, 2006 at 12:47 pm (Daily Dookie, Housekeeping)

Well, folks, it’s been a week again. A strange, interesting in spots week. But mostly, it’s just been a week.

First, it’s time for housekeeping, which I’ll do here once this post is made. I might make a Housekeeping post; I might not. I will be adding and subtracting as usual, so leave me a note in the comments if you either want to be added or subtracted. The blogroll is HUGE–I knew this even without the nice review Melody Blue gave me, but I hate removing anyone.

NOTE: If you want to tell me how to put all the blogs in the blogroll into a handy little pull-down, my email’s in the profile. I want to do a remodel around here (been nearly a year since the last) but haven’t quite scraped the bucks up for it. That one little thing tho I really would like to do before that, so if you can tell me how, feel free. I’m also considering a move due to reasons I can’t go into just yet, so it might just all get done at once. UPDATE: I’m writing an update after the umpteenth time I tried to publish this fucking post. This show’s going on the road once I get my new digs figured out.

I actually got to do three funsy things this week. Thursday was lunch with Honey and a buddy of his. I’m not exactly crazy about the buddy but it was nice to just get out and see the sunshine for a change. The details are boring so I’ll spare you.

Friday’s funsie was more fun–dinner at a restaurant that featured fabulous sushi, with Honey, Ghostie and BooBoo (it’s Ghost’s suggestion, M–I couldn’t come up with a better one, so you’re BooBoo). I finally figured out what the hell it was I’d had at a Christmas party the restaurant catered–Beef Tatami, so I had that, shrimp tempura (HUGE-assed shrimp, Dog Almighty!) and my first try at a soft-shell crab. Wonderful stuff, the crab was. I was highly impressed. Guess I’d always thought it might be icky, but it turned out fabu. We weren’t the most obnoxious diners, but we came close as usual.

Saturday was a post all in itself–I decided to take a run over to Ghost’s new digs to give him some of my nice pain balm for his messed-over knee. Nice place, and BooBoo has nice ferrets. I’ve never been nuts about ferrets because they reminded me of elongated rats, but these two are just adorable and well-behaved and snuggly and clean, so I could deal with petting them and cooing, “oooh, lookit da FACES! Pretty little FACES!” when I get the chance.

Well, time to get something done here, but I’ll be back later with the post about why I hate driving around here.

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Excellent Reading

April 19, 2006 at 10:37 am (Other Bloggers)

I’m not into soap operas. Not. Interested. Don’t watch them, don’t read them, not into them. Not heavily into celebrity gossip and dirt either. I’ve made an exception for this series tho–the subject matter is excellent, the writing rocks and it’s a far cry from bullshit like books from most celebs. The story, from the blog My Boring Ass Life, though, is an exception to the rule. It tends to read like a soap because of the subject matter and the time period covered, but it’s been the best use of reading time I’ve run into in a long time.

Me and My Shadow Pt.1

Me and My Shadow Pt. 2

Me and My Shadow Pt. 3

Me and My Shadow Pt. 4

Me and My Shadow Pt. 5

Me and My Shadow Pt. 6

Me and My Shadow Pt. 7

Me and My Shadow Pt. 8

Me and My Shadow Pt. 9 *Just found*

The story is about Jason Mewes, star of several of Kevin Smith’s movies and his longtime friend. Wild, touching, and I can’t wait for the ending. Gotta say my respect for both these guys has gone up in HUGE amounts since starting this series.

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RbW, like we didn’t know already

April 18, 2006 at 9:24 am (Raised by Wolves)

Tom “Fucknut” Cruise has been in the news quite a bit in the last couple of years, having completely lost his mind since parting ways with former wife Nicole Kidman. Unfortunately, his notoriety isn’t due to good works or new projects, instead being centered on said mind-loss.

For example:

1. Tom appears on Oprah and shows less self-control than a 10 year old boy with ADD who’s off his Ritalin.

2. He meets, romances and impregnates a woman who’s been looking more shell-shocked by the day.

3. He proceeds to further demonstrate his lack of mind by buying an ultrasound machine for the sole purpose of spying on Fetus TomKat.

4. He’s declared a silent birth for the baby, including not allowing its mother to speak to it for one week post-birth.

5. He tops all the above with this declaration, quoted from The Sun:

TOM Cruise has claimed he will eat the PLACENTA after fiancée Katie Holmes has their baby.

Say WHAT? Either he’s trying to generate publicity for his new movie (that I won’t link here because I don’t believe in rewarding idiocy) or he just doesn’t understand that there are things that fall into the “No one needs to know this shit” category.

So, for his contributions to the increasing need for mental health care, idiocy and furthering pubic opinion of Scientology as an insane cult whose tax-exempt status should be pulled faster than the Shrub can say “Weapons of Mass Destruction,” Tom Cruise is once again awarded the Whiplash Smile “Raised by Wolves” Award.

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That High Pitched Whine, Redux

April 12, 2006 at 8:47 am (Pop Culture on Parade)

I don’t usually make a big deal of the fact that I watch American Idol, but this week is the show where the little goofballs screw over sing the music of Queen. Being the good, loyal rock fan that I am, I just can’t let this pass without speaking up. Queen’s an all-time favorite artist of mine and normally I’d love to hear their stuff any way I can get it, but…shaking my head…not like this, guys, not like this. I hate it when people do hideous shit to dead rockers’ songs.

I’ll go in order of appearance, with notes in little semblance of organization since the written notes I’m working from don’t have it either. Most will have a note about song choice because a few of the choices were just not good.


Song: Fat Bottomed Girls

First impression: Excellent choice–not vocally demanding and lots of rock-stomping beat.

Opinion overall: Passable performance, but might land him in the bottom three. Good work for him on a rock song but I got a half-assed feeling from the preparation for this one. There was far more he could have done with this to make it his own turbo-country future hit, and he really didn’t put in the work.

Better song choice: Actually this was probably one of the best song choices for him. If I had to pick a different one, it’d be “Crazy Little Thing Called Love.”


Song: We Will Rock You

First Impression: Huh? With your range, you pick one of the easier songs? Whyfor you not take the chance to really make an impression? Oh, that’s right, he’s an idiot.

Overall Opinion: Surprisingly good! While a better song choice would have really added to Wet Panty Points with his core fans, this version, with the slight rearrangements to showcase his voice more, did work very well for him. I wouldn’t pay to see it, but pretty tho he is, I wouldn’t pay to see Ace do anything because I’m getting bored with pretty with no backup qualities.

Better Song Choice: Bohemian Rhapsody. He’s one of the two guys who had the range to pull this one off, and leaving it for (shudder) one of the girls (see below) was a mistake, both in being good to the music Freddy Mercury left us and to your own need to get a leg up in the competition. “You’re My Best Friend” wouldn’t have sucked either.


Song: Bohemian Rhapsody

First Impression: No. Not only no, but HELL no. The first sign of twang on this hard-rock classic will have me threading a circular knitting needle thru my temples in an attempt to make it stop.

Overall Opinion: No. FUCK no. Hear that high-pitched whine? It’s Freddy, spinning in his GRAVE over what you did to his song! Looking like a bad Joan Jett clone didn’t endear you to me either (as I love Joan Jett and you will never have her appeal so give it up). The whole song sounded like shit even taken on its own merits and trying not to compare her version to the original, and I can’t believe the guys from Queen let you do this to their material. If a phone call could have eliminated you, I’d still be dialing. Die, clone bitch, die.

Better Song Choice: “Crazy Little Thing Called Love” could have bent more to your country background and voice. The costume you wore last night, after swapping in some leather pants for the black jeans (which you should have done anyhow) would have fit better with both songs. Oh, and the eye makeup applied via The Fifth Element method? Trowel that shit off–heavy kohl eyeliner doesn’t play on blue eyes.


Song: Innuendo

First Impression: This could be interesting, since I don’t know the song he picked at all.

Overall Opinion: Put this on your first album. Really. Excellent strategy to pick a song no one knows from the body of work and he owned it, start to finish! He did more than full justice to a song Queen hasn’t ever performed live. I can see why they didn’t–it’s a VERY demanding song, hard to get right, and would have been really taxing to pull out of one’s ass night after night on tour.

Better Song Choice: Bohemian Rhapsody. Chris has the stage presence to really wow the crowd with this one, has the ability to do it justice and the heart to really love the material they way it needs to be for anyone but Freddy to sing it to a mass TV audience.


Song: Who Wants to Live Forever

First Impression: Not a good choice to grab the crowd, with all the better songs her range could have let her sing.

Overall Opinion: I was worried about her picking this one. I was right to have worried. The arrangement peaked far too early in the song, leaving the last third of the song overblown and out of tune. I love this song–it usually gives me shivers. This one didn’t because instead of building to the end like it should have, by the end it was too late–with the middle of the arrangement so big, she had nowhere to go but down by the close.

Better Song Choice: “You’re My Best Friend,” “Killer Queen” or “Somebody to Love” especially the latter, would have been ideal choices for her range and clear sweet voice. A well done arrangement on “Somebody” would have really scored her some points as the classiest singer in the Idol lineup.


Song: Somebody to Love

First Impression: Bye, Elliot. Phone home so someone picks you up at the airport.

Overall Opinion: I expected him to bite the dust this week, since he’s just not equipped with the charisma or voice to pull off Queen’s body of work. I don’t think I’m wrong after hearing the performance either–“Somebody to Love” is just biting off more than his voice can chew. He completely missed on interpretation, and he was severely out of tune the whole time. He hasn’t got the clarity of voice to make this one palatable.

Better Song Choice: Maybe, “We Are The Champions” or better yet, look hard for something on one of the early albums that rocks but isn’t so difficult to sing. This wasn’t a good week for Elliot no matter how you slice it though, since he just doesn’t have the chops to pull most of the known works off.


Song: Crazy Little Thing Called Love

First Impression: Ooooh, this should be good but I won’t be able to watch due to the Joe Cocker Syndrome the boy’s got going on.

Overall Opinion: Yeah, baby! Take me–take me NOW! Too hot! If I didn’t hurt so bad last night I’d have had a major case of happy feet. As it was, chair-dancing got out of hand. Excellent song for a bluesy-style singer and Taylor made the most of it. It gave me hot-cold fever and left me in a cold-cold sweat. I fucking loved this!

Better Song Choice: He’d switched to this song after the clinic with Queen and I really think that was a good move, so good that I’m not suggesting another song.


Song: The Show Must Go On

First Impression: Huh? Who? There’s another song left? Oh. Hope she can remind me why I should care that she hadn’t performed yet.

Overall Opinion: She didn’t remind me. While she did a passable job, I was distracted by how inappropriate it is for a chunky 16 year old to dress like an S&M queen. No, I’m not one to talk but I’m not on American Idol either. Baby fat hanging over tight leather just isn’t a good look for anyone.

Better Song Choice: Actually she did a good job on the song; perhaps this spot should be “Better Wardrobe Choice” in this case. LOVED the boots tho–excellent choice but thigh-high would have been better and might have distracted from the muffin top over the pants. A top that wasn’t so form-fitting, ditch the straps that accentuated her tummy, move the splash of silver from her hip to her top and draw the eye upward, and perhaps people would remember the song. This might land her in the bottom three just due to the awful outfit distracting from her voice.

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April 11, 2006 at 10:13 am (WTF)

I occasionally look at my hit counter to see what search engines are hitting me and how, watching for strange ones because usually they make me giggle. Of course, there’s the every once in awhile that I just shake my head and wonder…

To the person who found me thru “actress enemas:”

WTF? And, by the way, EW! Who CARES, and gee I hope you never find images of that. There has to be better pastimes in Quebec than that. There just HAS to be.

In other news, I’m hoping my new Boca Java order is shipped today, because I’m ~sniffle~ ALL out of coffee goodness and I’m having to resort to inferior caffeine. Honey demo’d a major store chain’s store brand extraordinaire over the weekend, so while I have passable French Vanilla coffee on hand, it’s not anywhere near as luscious as Boca’s Vacation Villa Vanilla.

As for the batch of all Boca’s Blogger’s Blends pack coming my way, I haven’t gotten a ship notice and it hasn’t shown up yet, so I’m anxiously awaiting that goodness as well, because I’m really looking forward to trying those out and doing some more reviews.

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N-V-T-S Nuts

April 10, 2006 at 8:04 am (The Enlightening Ones)

Well, it’s been a weird week.

The Inquisition (Let’s begin)
The Inquisition (Look out sin)
We have a mission to convert the Jews (Jew, Jew, Jew, Jew, Jew, Jew, Jew)

It’s been tense here at home–HsMa doing strange things like, “Here’s a romance novel–you should like this.” Uh, I’d rather sodomize myself with a rose bush than read a romance novel, so I politely turned it down (yes, it’s possible for me to be polite–piss off!). This resulted in a snit lasting two days, from HER. Hello? Dictating my reading choices means I should be the pissy one.

Confess, don’t be boring.
Say yes, don’t be dull.
A fact you’re ignoring:
It’s better to lose your skull cap than your skull (Oye Gevalt!)

Let’s see, she dictates that I should read something I haven’t touched ever since I found the Harold Robbins section at the library when I was 11 and SHE’s pissed? It didn’t help that I’m craving red meat and salt while my teeth give me another case of the fits (PMS blows), meaning I couldn’t chew anything she’s cooked in three days, adding to both her snit and my deep desire to check into a hotel.

Hell, there’s an old AirStream trailer in the backyard–if I didn’t already know that it has enough wildlife living in it to earn it a designation as a rodent sanctuary I’d be tempted to hook up a propane tank and move the hell in. It even has a kitchenette, so with some cleaning and a nice extension cord to the house I could probably soap out there if it weren’t for the critters. Granted that it’s packed with excess stuff as only a pack rat can stuff it, but the lawn’s big and I’m desperate for some soaping time.

Will you convert? “No, no, no, no.”
Will you confess? “No, no, no, no.”
Will you revert? “No, no, no, no.”
Will you say yes? “No, no, no, no!”

Speaking of which, is it me or is it just mean to walk in and announce, “Serra, I got an order for you for something you can’t make because there’s no room, and it’s something you make quite a lot of money from!”

I think it’s mean. Honey doesn’t get it.

Maybe he would if I sewed him into his bedsheets and beat him with a cast iron skillet.

Chorus: Hey, Torquemada, whadaya say?
Torq: I just got back from the auto-da-fe.
Chorus: Auto-da-fey, what’s an auto-da-fe?
Torq: It’s what you oughtn’t to do but you do anyway.

All this weekend I had the weirdest song stuck in my head, giving the insanity surrounding me a surreal soundtrack. Having “The Inquisition” from History of the World Part I as background music was just enough to make me hunt for the number for this county’s Community Mental Health office.

We know you’re wishin’ that we’d go away.
But the Inquisition’s here and it’s here to stay!

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